“Sign me up,” said Touchstone. He pulled the bottle from the fridge and cracked it open, filling Henry’s champagne flutes with three healthy pours. Henry not only had a frog for every occasion, but he also had glasses for every occasion in all different shapes and sizes, from skinny champagne flutes to heavy-bottomed glasses that practically required the drinker to wear a velvet smoking jacket. My favorites were wide-brimmed coupes made of pink glass and etched with flowers. I wanted to use them for everything and was simultaneously terrified of breaking them.

“I have news,” I said, lifting my glass slightly.

“So do I,” said Ros. “I got a job!”

I nearly choked on my sparkling cider.

“What? Really? At the Hidden Fern?” I said.

“At the Hidden Fern!” said Ros, and a pit formed in my stomach, remembering Jess Orlando among the plants. “Celia and I went there the other day when you went off to unicycle, Touch. It’s beautiful. They do arrangements for the theater festival.”

“Do you get a discount?” Touchstone asked.

“What do you need plants for?” I said.

“I’m thinking flowers,” Touch said. “It’s going well with Audrey.”

“When did you hear about the job?” I asked Ros.

“Wait, say more about Audrey,” said Ros.

“Not only did she give me a ride home, but we worked together in a clowning exercise. We had to make each other laugh. She was really good at it. I kept cracking up, and she was, like, stone-faced.”

“You like her? She seemed really nice the other night,” said Ros.

“I think so,” said Touch. “Though another person in the workshop said they thought I was gay when I said I was going out with her.”

“Back to Ros’s job…,” I said.

Ros shook their head. “It’s so rude of other people to keep assuming things about you. Don’t let it bother you.”

“It’s one thing to get it from my brothers. It’s another to get it from strangers.”

“Your brothers are cretins,” Ros said.

“You barely know them,” said Touch, which was true.

“Am I wrong?” said Ros.

“No, you’re not wrong,” he said.

“Thank you,” said Ros. “Okay, these are ready.”

They ferried burgers onto three plates heaped with potatoes, and we took our seats around the table. Ros had thought to light two candles, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were in some sort of rehearsal for future dates they were planning.

“How did you hear about the job?” I asked.

“Jess called,” said Ros.

“Jess Orlando?” I said.

“You don’t have to call her by her first name and last name every time,” said Ros.

“Her name does have a nice ring to it, though,” said Touchstone.

“Doesn’t it?” said Ros, and they seemed so unlike themselves, almost dreamy, that I nearly dropped my flute of sparkling cider.